


Hindsight is 20/20

by RedOrchid



Series: Flash Bang #1 (Indigo Team) [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Gen, Humor, Magical Accidents, No Goats were harmed in the writing of this fic, Pre-Canon, Soul Bond, Warlock Adventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 13:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: Two warlocks, a cursed artifact, a distracting inn-keeper’s son, and a hungry goat.Square #3 - Accidental Soulbond





	Hindsight is 20/20

**Author's Note:**

> For Flash Bang bingo, #3 -- Accidental Soulbond

“I still think we’re making a mistake by staying here,” Ragnor says, for what must be the fiftieth time. At least. Magnus is getting exceedingly tired of his whining.

“So you’ve said,” he replies, keeping his focus on the necktie he’s putting on. He frowns. The brown is most certainly respectable, but does it really do that much for his skin? Maybe he should go with blue. Something more vibrant. Bolder.

“Are you even listening to me?” Ragnor says, making Magnus realise that he probably missed a sentence or two of the conversation.

“Of course, my friend. I’m merely contemplating.”

“Right. And that contemplation wouldn’t have anything to do with the inn-keeper’s eldest son, would it?”

Magnus tries and fails to hide a smile. “You can’t hardly blame a man for looking. You saw him mounting that cart.”

“Yes, and he had a rather exceptional backside, I’ll admit. But Magnus, please, we’re trying to be discreet. We’ll likely only get one chance to perform the ritual before the Shadowhunters get wind of it and come portalling over to claim the artifact as their own.”

Magnus scoffs, and then tilts his head. Definitely not the brown one. It doesn’t bring out the colour of his lips enough.

“Let them try,” he says, pulling the necktie off and tossing it in the general direction of his coffer and summoning a different one. “The Stone of Allegiance is of unknown providence. The Shadowhunters don’t have any more of a claim to it than anyone else.”

“Correct as that may be, do you really think that will stop them?” Ragnor asks.

Magnus sighs, conceding the point. “Your plan?”

“We leave right now, travel across the moors to the cliffs. The old magic is strong there, as well, and the location is a lot more inconspicuous than a well at the centre of a village.”

Magnus shakes his head. “No, we need to do it here. The well is built at the crossing point of two of the most powerful ley lines on these isles. It’s too good an opportunity to pass by.”

“The cliffs will—”

“The cliffs will have us sleeping outside on the rock, chilled to the bone since you won’t let me put any charms up!” Magnus exclaims. “We’ve been living like mundanes for weeks, and I’m sick of it!”

He meets Ragnor’s eyes in the mirror, doing his best to stare him down. Ragnor merely raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Would it help sweeten the pot if I agreed that once we’re done here, we’ll go back to civilisation? London, perhaps? Or Paris, even?”

Magnus narrows his eyes. His friend knows him a little too well.

Still, he’s not quite ready to give up on his own plans for the evening. And besides, he’s in the right—the magical atmosphere at the well is far superior to that of any other location within at least a ten days’ ride. They’ll go ahead and perform the ritual as planned, and until then—

“Sorry, my friend, but I’m afraid you can’t sway me. I’ll see you in the town square an hour before dawn. Have the potion ready, and we’ll be in and out in no time at all.”

An exasperated _Magnus!_ follows him out of the room, partly muffled by the thick wooden door closing. Magnus smiles to himself and heads down the stairs, to the tavern located on the ground floor.

It only takes him moments to find the young man he noticed when he and Ragnor arrived. He’s moving between the tables, gathering empty tankards and plates, while a pretty girl who must be his sister works behind the bar.

Magnus gets himself a drink and chooses a table at the back of the room—right next to a table that’s just being vacated by a larger group of people.

Less than five minutes later, the young man comes over to tidy up after them; another minute and Magnus has caught his attention; one more, and they’re talking; ten minutes more, and the man—Arawn—is excusing himself, stating that he needs to go and see about his chores in the stable, and giving Magnus a meaningful look.

Magnus downs the last of his drink and gets to his feet, giddy with anticipation. Staying in this village was definitely the right call.

***

“The boy’s goat did _what_!” Ragnor shouts.

Magnus backs away a couple of paces, subconsciously preparing for a shield charm as he catches angry sparks of red magic dance around Ragnor’s hands.

“It’s a minor setback,” he tries. “Granted, bringing the artifact with me when I left the room was, in retrospect, not the best course of action. But in my defense, I had reason to believe that—were I to leave it in your care—you would be gone with it, and halfway across the moor, when I got back.”

“And I clearly would have been right!” Ragnor throws back. “Because now, the Stone of Allegience is in the stomach of a bloody goat!”

“Like I said, a minor setback. We—”

“I already started the ritual! As per your instructions! A sliver of my soul is in that potion, Magnus! And now you’re telling me that I’m unwillingly in the midst of tying my life force to a farm animal!”

“Now, now,” Magnus replies, doing his best to calm the situation. “We don’t know that. The Stone is _inside_ the goat, granted, but it’s not really _part of_ the goat. And who is to say that goats even have the kind of soul that can be bonded with?”

Naturally, the magic chooses precisely that moment to make the circle Ragnor drew in the sand glow a bright gold colour. Magnus watches with mounting dread as his friend stiffens, the light moving away from the ground to wrap around his body, raising him a couple of feet into the air.

A frightened bleating sound comes from the direction of the stables, and when Magnus turns his head, he sees the thrice-damned goat come toward them, as though pulled forward by invisible strings.

The goat careens into the circle, which immediately flashes with bright, white light. Magnus’ jaw drops, and at the heel of realisation comes the uncomfortable certainty that Ragnor will never let him live this one down.

The light fades eventually, leaving the three of them standing at the well in the middle of the town square. Magnus dons his best well-what-can-you-do expression, while Ragnor glares daggers at him. The goat, meanwhile, takes a couple of steps closer to Ragnor, nosing at the hem of his trousers with interest. Then it takes the fabric between its teeth and pulls, ripping the material and coming away with a large chunk of it, on which it starts chomping, happily.

“You were saying?” Ragnor asks, pure ice dripping from every syllable.

Magnus tactically summons a portal and gets the hell out of there.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


End file.
